Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3

by Gillian Andrews

Grace led the way finally down towards the ortholake, though the machine insisted in taking the descent slowly in order to preserve the details for posterity; taking the first sight of the lake from various angles and heights.

  Arcan detected her presence and put on a show of lights and fountains for her. Grace watched, as always entranced, until the glittering liquid subsided into the lake.

  “Hi, Arcan. I have brought something to meet you,” she said, indicating the small machine.

  “This is a machine,” dismissed Arcan. “I cannot ‘meet’ a machine.”

  “Tell me about it,” agreed Grace. “Only this machine is run by a sentient life-form sitting in a tank of liquid in a spaceship above Valhai, and says it comes from many light years’ away.”

  The surface lake glittered. “In the direction of Pictoris?” it said hopefully.

  “Pictoris?”

  Grace gave a gasp. And it hadn’t even occurred to her! “I didn’t ask,” she admitted.

  “I will enquire,” said Arcan. “Where—”

  “On behalf of the Dessite Hinterworlds I am authorized to present our most respectful greetings and to express our excitement that we have found a class 2 sentient. This has been the purpose of our deep space exploration program, and is the culmination of many thousands of years of space travel. The Dessite people would be honoured if you would accept an invitation to visit them.” The little machine quivered, and fell silent.

  “Visit them … where …?” asked Arcan.

  “On Dessia.”

  “And where exactly is Dessia?”

  The mobile lens peered up towards the sky, to identify its home world. “In that constellation over there, about 13,400 light years away.”

  Grace felt disappointed. It was looking towards the Vanex constellation, on opposite sides of the sky to Pictoris. She got to her feet.

  “I think my job is done,” she told them. “I will leave you two to chat. I am sure you have a lot to say to each other.”

  “Thank you, Grace. Do you require transport back?”

  Grace shook her head. You know how much I love being bare planet, Arcan. Don’t worry about me. Let me know how this ‘first contact’ goes!”

  “I will do that,” promised Arcan.

  “The Dessite Hinterworlds thank you for your cooperation,” said the sphere.

  “My pleasure.” Grace sketched a quick bow. “I hope you type 2 sentients have a riveting time getting to know each other. I will remove my lowly type 3 presence.”

  “Thank you,” said the camera.

  “What is all this about types?” asked Arcan.

  Grace explained the system to him.

  “Why have I been designated as only 2b?” Arcan demanded plaintively. “Why am I not 2a?”

  Grace giggled to herself. It seemed Six understood Arcan quite well.

  Chapter 17

  THE NEXT TIME Grace visited Kwaide, she asked Arcan to help her take a present over for Cimma.

  “For you, Magestra!” she said, stepping back while her mother opened up a flat package.

  “What on Almagest … Oh!” Cimma twisted the canvas this way and that to catch the colours. “Grace! I like it!”

  Grace shook her head. “It isn’t your real present, Maestra, it is just a joke present. Your real present is in your cabin.”

  Cimma gave her a hug, her eyes filling with tears. “It is beautiful, Grace. I didn’t realize you could paint. How it reminds me of Valhai!”

  “I wish I could! It is just something I like to do sometimes. It helps calm me down when I am alone.”

  “I think it’s very good.” Cimma held up the landscape of the dark Valhai surface. “Whatever you do, don’t give this up.”

  “I have no training.”

  “No, and you aren’t likely to get any now, either. Never mind, you can find plenty of pointers on any interscreen. But I really think you should develop this – I think you have a lot of talent.”

  “Like the Xianthan highlanders!” teased Grace, reminding her mother of some paintings she had bought solely because she had liked them, despite their only possessing a 300 to 1 cost to bulk proportion.

  “Yes, just like them.” Her mother’s eyes glowed. “How I loved those sweeping Xianthan colours!” She gave a sigh. “Of course your father wouldn’t hear of it. He was such a Sellite sometimes.”

  “He made you return them.” Grace reminded her.

  “And I hid them on the 41st floor,” Cimma said. “I still go – that is I still used to go – to look at them from time to time.”

  “Not any more, you won’t. Xenon and Amanita are back in residence on the 49th floor. But I will try to smuggle them over here for you.”

  “So what is my ‘real’ present, if this is not it?”

  Grace giggled. “I brought you – that is Arcan brought you – something we thought you might be missing over here on this freezing planet of discomfort.”

  Cimma raised her eyes towards Lumina. “Freezing is the right word,” she said. “This is the worst place in history’s memory. Those icy winds that can kill you!” She gave a shudder. “But there again, the rebels are nice and I feel I am doing something really important over here.”

  “I know. You won’t come back to Valhai now.” It was a statement.

  Cimma shook her head. “To be the politically correct mother-in-law to Amanita? No, I thank you. I shall stay on Kwaide. They need me here.”

  “And that is the reason for the present.” Grace pulled her mother along by her arm, anxious to see the reaction. “Come ON!”

  They made their way together over to Cimma’s cabin, on the other side of the camp. It was by far the biggest, reinforced with thick wooden trunks against the bitter weather. Their footsteps made a hollow sound as they went up the steps to the front door.

  Cimma opened the door almost cautiously. “I don’t have the least idea what you could have thought—” She stopped suddenly. “—Oh my goodness!” Her hands went up to her face with surprise.

  “Are you pleased?” Grace smiled.

  “Am I pleased? I should say so!” Cimma laughed. Then she approached the present warily, as if expecting it to disappear at any moment. “And you brought both of them. Oh, thank you!” The Sellite woman took a happy hold of the staircase and climbed with enormous satisfaction into the empty sarcophagus, first fondly patting the full and sealed one on the other side. “Now I have your father with me. Thank you. This is the one thing I was missing from Valhai. The rest doesn’t matter. You can leave it there for Amanita and Xenon. I don’t care. I shall be able to sleep well now.”

  Grace grinned again. “Bringing both of them doesn’t leave much room for anything else in this cabin, but I didn’t want to leave him there for Amanita.”

  “I should think not! Especially not after what Xenon tried to do to you!”

  Grace looked uncomfortable. “Oh. You heard about that …”

  “I most certainly did. And I shall not be speaking to my son again. I cannot believe that any son of mine could even contemplate such a thing!”

  “I suppose he feels that I am to blame for everything.”

  “Fine excuse! He has behaved in a way inappropriate of a Sellite. You had better make sure you stay out of his way. He may want to remedy your having survived.”

  “I know.” Grace inclined her head. “Don’t worry. I can look after myself.”

  Cimma beamed. “I have heard of your role in saving the orbital station, daughter. I think you do better than just look after yourself!”

  Grace felt a warm glow of pleasure spread through her. “Do you?” She was absurdly flattered by the praise. “Th-thank you!”

  Cimma gave her a hug. “Don’t be silly. I admire you.”

  “You admire me!” Grace stared.

  “You are becoming very adept. Painting – saving space stations – look at you!”

  Grace burst out laughing. “Somehow I don’t think Amanita would agree with you,” she said.

  Ci
mma nodded. “Well, let’s face it; it isn’t exactly ‘house management’, is it?”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  Cimma gave her another hug. “Of course I don’t. I’d rather hang one painting of yours on my wall than have five hundred perfectly managed meals. I want you just to be you.”

  “And who is that?”

  Cimma shrugged. “I don’t know, and I suspect that it may change during your lifetime, so don’t get too stuck in one rut.”

  “I won’t,” Grace promised. “By the way, did I tell you we met an extra-system life-form …?”

  UNFORTUNATELY FOR GRACE, as soon as she arrived back on Valhai and up to the 48th floor of the 256th skyrise she walked right back into Amanita. Her sister-in-law was inspecting the rooms where Cimma and Grace had lived for so long.

  “Get out!” Amanita snapped straight away. “You have no right to be here.”

  Grace sighed. “It is you who has no right to be here, actually. The whole skyrise is ceded to Arcan at the moment – except the 49th floor. Nice to see you too, Amanita.”

  “I wish Xenon HAD managed to kill you.”

  “I am sure you do.”

  “I hope you are ashamed of yourself!”

  Grace looked at her sister-in-law, and suddenly there was a shift in her perception.

  “You are a bully,” she said. “I feel sorry for your children.”

  “H-how DARE you!”

  “I dare,” Grace said, suddenly realizing something, “because you no longer frighten me.” She straightened up. “And you know what? It feels good.”

  “I despise you!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘I spit on you’ etcetera, etcetera.”

  “I shall never—”

  “—forgive me, I know that too. Well, guess what – I don’t really care anymore. My own brother tried to kill me – left me for dead in an exploding space station, and I think things don’t get much worse. I don’t wish you harm, Sister-in-law, but you simply don’t hold any sway over me now.” How about that? I grew up and I hadn’t even noticed. She felt a surge of happiness well up from inside.

  “I forbid you to live here!”

  “Then I shan’t.” Grace gave a short laugh. “I would hate to trespass on your precious property.”

  “You always were a bad influence.”

  “I always was.”

  “You ought to be dead. You would be if it weren’t for your great friend Arcan.”

  “How true.”

  “You had better hope he wins the court case, because if he doesn’t he will be pretty unwelcome on Valhai, I can tell you.”

  “Can you now?”

  “And Xenon will be as important as he was before.”

  “I expect he will always be important to you.” Grace commented mildly. “After all, you married him for better or worse.”

  “Then you are stupid too, aren’t you,” hissed Amanita. “Do you really think that I would have married Xenon if he hadn’t been heir to the donor house?”

  “Tut, tut. Then you must be very disappointed by recent events, mustn’t you?”

  “He will rise back to the top again. No thanks to you!”

  “Definitely no thanks to me. In fact, I shall do everything in my power to stop him!”

  “And I,” snarled Amanita, “shall do everything in my power to wipe you off the face of this universe.”

  I will NOT let this poisonous venom affect me, Grace told herself sternly. What would Diva do? An image of the Coriolan girl immediately sprang to mind, and she grinned to herself, and unsheathed her own catana.

  Amanita gave an unladylike shriek and jumped aside. “You will be sorry!” she shouted, as she made her way to the front lift. “You will see. You will live to regret this!”

  Now you will let me live? Too kind. Grace shook her head to herself. But she felt good. She hadn’t let Amanita intimidate her like she used to. She felt she was progressing.

  The orthogel lift made a faint hiss as it carried Amanita off back to her own level. Grace wondered if Arcan had been listening to the conversation. She hadn’t seen the orthogel entity since the grand presentation of type 2 minds.

  GRACE HAD HARDLY had time to start packing her few bags when the ortholift announced another non-virtual visitor. She made her way to the reception area, and paused, surprised. This time her heart gave a lurch and stopped just for a second before resuming a pounding so loud she thought that it could probably be heard over in Cesis.

  “Hello, Grace.” Vion walked over and held his fingers up.

  She gave a small sigh. What else was about to happen today? But she could hardly refuse to touch hands with him, could she?

  Slowly, almost without knowing what she was doing, she walked up to him and held up her fingers.

  He caught her fingers in his, and instead of using the standard system greeting, he curled his own fingers around hers.

  “Grace,” he said. “I know you must think that I am a sorry excuse of a Sellite. But I wanted you to know something before … before … well, you never know if something is going to be too late, do you?”

  Grace made a half-hearted attempt to free her fingers, but he had them tight between his own, and showed no sign of wanting to let go.

  “What I decided …” He sighed. “What I have done is because of my father, because of my sister. But I never told you how much I care about you. I … I care for you.”

  Grace’s heart gave such an enormous leap she thought for a second that it had stopped altogether. Then it stuttered back into life, leaving her feeling dizzy.

  “I care for you too, Vion,” she said.

  “It won’t change anything I do,” he told her.

  “I know.” She nodded.

  “But I didn’t tell you last time. I wanted you to hear it. I wanted you to know that it wasn’t because I didn’t care enough.” He bent to kiss her gently on the cheek.

  “Thank you.” She looked sadly into his eyes, “I know it won’t make any difference, but it was nice to hear.”

  He let her hand drop gently and smiled. “I have felt so unhappy sometimes,” he said, “that I have been within an ace of telling them all to find another doctor. But Aracely … if I ran away with you, she would be shunned. No Sellite would even consider marrying her. How can I do that to her? What right have I to put my own interests ahead of those of my sister? I simply can’t do it.”

  “Some things are just not meant to be.” Grace stood on tiptoe and reached up to return his gentle kiss on the cheek. “I don’t blame you for the decision to stay.”

  “Perhaps you can find someone else,” he said.

  “Perhaps.”

  “I wish I could see you happy. You are always on your own these days. Even Cimma is on Kwaide.”

  Grace nodded. “Don’t worry. Amanita has just kicked me out of the skyrise. It suits me to let her think she has succeeded because I was packing anyway when she came.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I,” she said, tipping her head back and closing her eyes momentarily, “am going to Kwaide. There is going to be a big battle – and this time I want to be in the thick of the fighting.”

  “That is too dangerous. Grace, you can’t go!”

  There was a telling silence for a long moment, and then she swiveled on one foot, and looked him defiantly in the eye. “I didn’t take house management,” she said. “I didn’t go to university. I am not about to let someone who won’t form a life contract with me dictate to me what I can and can’t do.”

  Vion took a step back, as if he had been slapped. “I thought you said you understood!”

  “I do. But I don’t think you understand me at all! I am no longer the girl who was just trying to look after her mother, and who asked you for help. I am a part of this war, and I will fight – or try to – for what I believe in.”

  “I just said that it was too dangerous. You should stay at home.”

  “Home?” Suddenly she was infused with a wave
of anger. “I have news for you. I am not the Sellite stereotype; I don’t have a home anymore.”

  “I meant that you shouldn’t be in the thick of the fighting.”

  “I know exactly what you meant, Vion. Maybe at heart you are just a typical Sellite man. You want a wife and a family, and you want to maintain the status quo.”

  “I thought you said you cared for me!”

  “I did. I do. That doesn’t mean I have to like everything you do. And I am not the person you are looking for. I want to go to other worlds, I want to travel. I want to fight and I want to see change happen. I feel smothered here on Sell. It is an arid society; it has nothing to give me.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “I don’t think you do. Sometimes I don’t even know myself. But I will not settle for anything less. I am going to fight for the things I believe in, and I am going to try to change the things which are wrong.” She gave a deep sigh. “Thank you for what you said, Vion, but it makes no difference. Find a nice girl who will agree with everything you say and think, and marry her. She will give you your next generation for the medical skyrise. I won’t.”

  She stood looking down, chest heaving. She wasn’t quite sure where all of that had come from, or who she was any more, but she was certain that she would never marry Vion. The whole thing had suddenly evaporated, had been burnt into dust by the flames of her own anger. She shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears. Even so, he hadn’t deserved the tirade she had just submitted him to. None of it had been his fault. She felt terrible.

  “I see.” Vion’s tone was gruff. “I will say goodbye then.”

  “Goodbye, Vion. I … I am sorry.”

  “You said what you felt. There is no need to be sorry.” He moved towards the ortholift, and stepped inside. The lift took him away.

  Chapter 18

  ARCAN TRANSPORTED GRACE to Kwaide, together with the rest of the possessions that she wanted to save from Xenon and Amanita. Grace no longer felt guilty at taking a few things from her home. So what if it did all belong to Xenon? He had tried to kill her, and she knew that trying to kill your own sister in some way invalidated your right to withhold her own prized possessions, claiming they were your own. The Sellite laws which would uphold Xenon when he claimed ownership of every single thing in the skyrise were absurd. She would no longer be bound by such clearly archaic laws. She would take her own personal property, neither more nor less. Arcan had already returned all the artifacts Six and Diva had ‘saved’ after the Sellite attack.